Cassette 1: Stress, Shoulders/Transcript
This is the official transcript for the episode which can also be accessed for free at'' patreon.com/withinthewires'' Welcome to The Relaxation Study. This ten-cassette series will guide you toward Relaxation, Focus, and Total-Body Awareness. Listen to these guides with authorized headphones provided to you by the Institute’s Security Team. These cassettes will help to further understand how your body works from top-down. Mind to matter. My voice will guide you through these exercises. You will trust only my voice and your body, to which you are servant. Listen. Remember. Comprehend. If you listen carefully to each recorded session, you may find information in these cassettes useful to you in your daily life. The object is listen, remember, and comprehend. Before you start the study, find a private spot, alone, away from your Unit-mates and Security Nurse, far from disruptive sounds such telephone booths and redress sirens. These cassettes are to be listened to free of external interference. Cassette One - Reducing Stress. Side A - Weight of the World # # # Start with a breathing exercise. As you inhale through your nose, feel your breath behind your eyes. Feel the cool air flow below your forehead, feel it hover under the top of your skull, feel it slip down your neck, across your shoulders, and into your lungs. Breathe in now. for inhale Breath out slowly through your mouth. beat Feel the air, now stale, now used, rush from your lungs, feel your body relax as it lets go of the air, freeing it from the temporary prison of your ribs. Breathe in. Breathe out. Continue breathing and listen. Envision the air as a liquid, just like the first time you swam. This was before you were born, when you were floating, unaware, fluid within and without your body. You breathed it just fine. You don’t remember any of this. You shouldn’t remember any of this. Inhale the thick liquid through your nose. pause And out through your mouth. pause You don’t remember the loud thrum of another's body, a mother's body, noisily soothing your unwitting transition into a conscious and sentient creature. You are again breathing liquid, your lungs a milk-soaked yellow cake. Draw liquid in. pause And out. pause Feel it bubbling in your chest. Listen to the breaths. Who is that breathing right now? Is it you? Is it your own breathing you’re hearing? Are you certain? Imagine there is another. Someone standing just over your shoulder. Breathing In. beat Breathing out. beat A hand touches your right shoulder, pressing you down gently, as if to keep a balloon from lifting out of gravity. Think about moist yellow cake. Breathe in. beat And Out. beat Feel your shoulders rise and tense, and lower and relax. Feel them wax and wane, two helpless moons. Listen to the sound of the other breathing in unison with your own. pause You *will* learn to trust my voice. Feel a breath from just behind you. You smell its caffeine acidity, its umami and metal musk through cotton lips. You know these breaths. How do you know them? firmly How do you know them? The hand on your shoulder lifts away. You are alone. You are fine. No one else is with you. Who would be with you? You are probably alone. Continue breathing as you receive sub-liminal instructions embedded in this music: for several moments continues underneath next... One more deep breath. beat And exhale. beat Are you in the same place you were before? No, you're not. The earth has moved. The clock has changed. You are older and far from where you were before you began this cassette. This is relative, of course. The important thing is that you continue breathing. # # # Let us begin an autogenic stress-relief exercise. Make sure you are in a standing position, your feet planted firmly underneath you, hip width apart, your knees straight but relaxed. Say aloud the following: My shoulders are stone. My shoulders are stone. My shoulders are sod. My shoulders are sod. Hold your shoulders up beside your ears, tense and angry. Lower your shoulders. Let them slip back down like beads of water on the side of a chilled glass. Let your right shoulder fall away. Say aloud "My right shoulder slides down my ribs, to my waist. It is free now, but separate from my body it is meaningless. It is just a shoulder, out of context, lying upon the ground. My shoulder is useless and alone." Say all of that aloud. for listener to say it aloud Good. Now say aloud: "My left shoulder is in its place. It does not miss my right shoulder because it did not know my right shoulder had ever existed. And now it is separate and alone lying upon the ground, and it is not missed it the way a brother or sister is not missed, because after age 10 there are no brothers or sisters. And before age 10, nothing can be remembered." Say all of that aloud. pause Can something be re-remembered? Can it? It cannot. Why are you here? What do you miss? Who do you miss? Say aloud: My right shoulder returns to my body. My right shoulder returns to my body. Feel your shoulders. They are unmoved by your heaving breaths. My shoulders are stone. My shoulders are sod. Inhale. beat Exhale. beat Open your eyes. You have done well completing your first breathing and autogenic exercises. How did you feel? How do you feel now? Did you remember experiences you never had? People you do not know? Or maybe you do know them. Maybe you just forgot. Before continuing to Side B, please fill out the Cassette One Side A questionnaire & submit it to the Security Nurse before your dosages. END OF SIDE A ### Cassette One, Side B - Shoulders and Giants Now you will begin a visualization for Stress Reduction. Lie down. Think of each muscle in your body. Count them all quietly to yourself. pause Close your eyes. You are in a forest. The forest is large, and you are small. The forest is immense and you are tiny. You are in mid-air and you see several things at once. To be more specific you see the same thing iterated many times. You are an insect with complex eyes and simple desires. You are erratic and frenetic. What little wind winds its way through leaves lifts and twists you into new directions. You are naked. You are alone. You are fine. You feel fine. You cannot see your own nakedness, for you cannot move your head to look down. Never look down. You see every sight iterated many times, but you do not see yourself. You are uncertain if it will rain. You are uncertain how you are floating. Or flying. You see a child. She is iterated many times. The girl is much larger than you. As you drift close to her, you see her smaller details giant and iterated many times: swirling valleys of the skin atop her palms. You see the crevices and gorges of her inner knuckles and the milky half moons inside her fingernails. You see long eyelashes, swaying like shadows of corn, flicking up and down over white eyes with their narrow pink rivers and great brown rings. You move in all directions. You move left to right. You move up and down. Your body whispers. You do not hear it. Her hands move to you and you feel a muted clap and it is dark. You breathe. In. Out. You breathe. In her hands it is quiet and you can smell the ocean. You see slivers of orange red light between her fingers. You move in all directions, but you cannot move far. Your body cries out. You do not hear it. Her hands begin to open. Her fingers wrap tight around you, and light pours over your body. The sun sees you but does not care. You see her nose, wet nostrils above a vermillion archway with columns of eggshell teeth. You breathe. The child breathes. You feel her breath on you, as you flutter, flustered, in her fingers. You see the child's shoulders, linen draped and slight. You feel your own shoulders - stained glass wings above an exoskeleton. A bird stops above on a branch. You see it many times in your kaleidoscope mind. The bird eyes you, unmoving, unmoved. The child rolls you in her enormous fingers. She studies you. You breathe. She breathes. She enjoys touching your many spiny legs and your bulbous eyes. Through her touch, you understand her. You absorb her thoughts. She is alone. She has brothers and sisters, but only for 2 more years. She does not know her parents. No one knows their parents. No one should know their parents. You understand suddenly that she once had a caretaker place a palm on her shoulder, the weight of it pressing upon her, as if to keep a balloon from lifting out of gravity. The hand, which comforted and calmed, left her head quickly, apologetically, acknowledging its mistake, and her shoulder felt cool and sore in its absence. You understand that the child digs holes and buries toys for future treasure. She breaks off branches and calls them batons or wands. The wizard conductor of nature's symphony. She asks without speaking: Why are you different? What is it you say you do? Why are you here? She sees your many colors, mostly shades of green and purple pulsing aurora-like on your black thorax. She notes your hair, tiny and ubiquitous, hardly noticeable until she looks closely. She sees the beauty of the body you cannot see. You struggle to escape. Your body exclaims things she cannot hear. The child worships beauty. She knows exactly what is beautiful because no one has yet told her she is wrong. She holds you firmly in her fingers, breathing into your body, and inhaling it back into her own. She turns you about, seeking a better view through the keyhole. Your body shudders. Your many legs push against her skin. The bird watches you still. The bird watches you. The bird is still. You see the bird iterated many times. You feel your shoulders pulling away from your body. Two of the child's fingers hold you firmly, with intention, the way she herself has never been held. In a way she wants to be held, to be seen. Two other fingers pull at your shoulders, your wings. Your body wants to keep itself intact. Your body does not like its parts to depart. Your body wants to be whole. This is what all bodies want. She knows this, too. But the child's fingers grip and squeeze and rip your wings from you. Your body screams things no one can hear. And in a pop, your body becomes silent and slack. You hear nothing more. You feel nothing more. You can see your shoulders, your wings stuck to the child's thumb and forefinger. You see parts of yourself you have never seen. You see them iterated many times. They are stained glass teardrops. Your feet push and press against the child's fingers, but her soft pads of skin give up nothing. You grow tired, less compelled. You are stuck between fingertips spiraling with her own unique pattern. The child looks closely at your wings and then back at you. The bird looks only at you. The child sees you for what you are and she loves you. She does not hate herself for dismantling your body. She does not regret what she has done, but she understands if you do. She presses her fingertip and thumb - the ones with your wings - together and apart. Together and apart. Together and apart. The wings stick to one fingertip and then to the other and then back to the other. She wishes for a hand again upon her shoulder and blows your wings like a kiss to the wind. She lays you, exhausted and free upon a rock. You cannot move. Or you do not move. You see the rock's gray horizon. It is the same forever in every direction. The child skips away. The bird lands on the rock beside you. Its body is perpendicular to your own. It stands in full silhouette. It does not see you for what you are. It sees you for what you are about to be. Its empty slack eyes and long black beak cocked sideways, it does not move, only stares. You count the seconds that pass. second pause The bird still stands and stares. The bird stares and stands still. You begin to move toward the constant gray horizon. You crawl, without feeling, toward the rock's edge. You see the trees above you, rock below you. You see the bird, a hollow black statue. You try to leave the rock but With a twist & a twitch, too quick to predict, the bird jerks its face toward yours. You are inside of it. It is dark. You hear breathing that is not your own. You smell grass and vinegar. You are moving. You are walking. You walk on two feet now. You are human. You can see your feet moving one in front of the other below you. A cold light ahead, a rectangle, stark fluorescent dearth. It is a corridor. It is a familiar corridor. It is the corridor of the Institute. Behind you is your assigned room. There are doors ahead along your left and your right. Listen. You count the doors. Remember. There are five doors along your right. Each is white. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Count the white doors. Comprehend. You Enter the fifth door. You do this in the future. Remember this door. Why am I telling you this? Why are you here? Where else could you be? Listen. Remember. Comprehend. then quickly: Visualization Exercise complete. You may open your eyes. You have completed cassette one toward relaxation and Total-Self. Cassette two will commence once standard diagnostics have been approved and schedule confirmation is issued by your Security Nurse. END SIDE B Category:Transcripts